“The noble Prince Darius!” exclaimed Isaiah, softly, advancing from the darkness. “Jehovah be praised!” “And with you is my Lord Daniel?” “Safe and free, Jehovah willing,” answered the older Jew, stepping forward. “Good, then,” replied the Persian. “Lead the way, for I am helpless here. Next to Ahura, I owe all to you, Isaiah, and to your friends!” “Fear nothing.” And Isaiah trod forward into the dark. “Few know the secrets of this city and palace as do I. We must haste to the tunnel.” They advanced in silence. The prison seemed empty of all life. Their feet awoke loud echoes down shadow-veiled galleries, but nothing hostile started forth to greet them. Presently they began ascending stairways, and the foul stench of the dungeons grew yet fainter. Then a door swung open before them, and a cold breath smote their faces. A strange form thrust itself across their path. “Who comes? Shaphat?” demanded Isaiah, never off his guard. The newcomer stared about him in the dark. “I am he; the guards are quieted. There is no danger. But where is my Lord Daniel? Let me fall at his feet.” And recognizing the older Jew, he cast himself then and there upon his knees. “O lord, gracious master, who was as a father to me and whom I have requited after the manner of demons, speak to me one word. Declare that you forgive, for the blackness of my sin is ever before me!” Daniel beckoned him to rise. “You are forgiven long ago; I have heard of the atonement made by saving Ruth, and by rescuing Isaiah in the riot. You have sinned and have repented. The Lord God requires nothing more.” “Speed,” interrupted Isaiah, “we must be all haste.” Then without another word he led the way over the threshold, past the ponderous prison gate, and Darius rejoiced yet again when he found himself beneath the glittering canopy of the stars. No moon. Under the starlight he could see the vague white tracery of the great palace to his left; to his right the outlines of the _ziggurats_ beyond the river, trebly tall in the darkness, and before the temples the opalescent twinkle of some wavelet of the mighty Euphrates, where a constellation was mirrored. Isaiah hastened northward. They saw, far off, a form pacing the embankment above the stream. The starlight touched something that glittered—a soldier’s helmet. Darius heard the chanted call pealing over the sleeping fortress:— “The Ninib-star[10] rises. Midnight approaches. Marduk prosper Belshazzar our lord!” “They change sentries soon. Speed!” urged Isaiah. And he led faster along the deserted quay. Soon before them rose a low, square building, and they halted. “The entrance to the tunnel beneath the river,” whispered Zerubbabel. “Now, if at all, let Jehovah show His mercy. All other exits from the palace fortress are too well watched.” [Illustration: “The starlight touched something that glittered—a soldier’s helmet.”]